Truant
by Neonbeat
Summary: "...Man, this totally isn't weird or stalker-ish, like, at all." Jesse sneers. Walt sighs and urges, "Let's hear it." Drabble, sort of crack!fic. Implied Walter/Jesse.
1. Chapter 1

"Truant"

It's another day of class. The middle-age man silently takes attendance as his carefree students chatter about. He matches each body with the seating chart and marks it. There's just a single empty chair. _Jesse Pinkman_. Him, _again_? Always, there's the troubled one that needs extra focus. Walt wonders while he strokes the stubble on his chin. That makes two days in a row. Soon, out of curiosity and suspicion he finds himself digging out Pinkman's file for a number to call. A quick glance at the kids shows Walt they're just fine without his attention. Something is compelling him to try and contact the parents or maybe Jesse; even, if it's normally the office's job.

He plays around with the idea in his head and looks over the information. He makes up his mind.

Walt clears his throat louder than necessary. "Ladies and Gentlemen, excuse me, I will be right back. Please, act civilized."

He hears someone mimic a fart sound while he slips out the door with his cell phone.

X

Jesse re-packs his bowl with the green stuff, lights it and takes a huge hit. The house phone starts ringing; he answers without hesitation assuming it was his friend.

He coughs up some strong, heavy coughs from the smoke inhalation into his end before talking. "Yo, bitch, why didn't cha call my cell?! Better hurry or you ain't gettin' any."

Walter fumbles his phone, "Jesse?" Ultimately, he'd expected the answering machine over the culprit himself.

"...Oh, my _god_ , Mr. White..." It clicks; Jesse recognizes the voice of his teacher. Whatever buzz he had going a chill pierced through.

"...Yes. Why are you _not_ in school?"

"...Man, this totally isn't weird or stalker-ish, like, at all." Jesse sneers.

Walt sighs and urges, "Let's hear it."

The teen groans reluctantly, "Come on, I'm sick." He coughs up a hocker and spits it in the sink for added measure. "Why else? I already called in."

He doesn't believe this, " _No_ , you can't do that yourself. A _guardian_ has to." Since Walter has got him he presses for more. "What's going on, Jes—"

"—Look, dude, I'll have a note tomorrow. Go back to teaching, Mr. White. Don't miss me too hard." Jesse teases before disconnecting.

Inhale. Puffs of smoke spout from his parted lips with the force of his laughter.

 **Faggot-ass, Mr. White, I can't fucking wait til I don't have to see you anymore.**

X

The chemistry teacher is a little embarrassed but overall pissed at the disrespect. **To hell with it. See if I care what messes he gets in.**


	2. Chapter 2

At last the weekend is right around the corner. Mr. White is propped against the width of his desk. He greets the youth that are filling the room with a half-hearted smile. Just when he thinks to count Jesse out once again; a dirty-blond, spiky-haired punk drags his feet over to him. Walt's look on his face hardens and he notices Jesse's irritated eyes. Jesse pulls a folded, jagged, paper ninja star out of his hoodie and holds it up to the teacher.

"Boom! How do 'ya like _this_?!" Jesse finishes with a growly giggle that sounds light like a hum.

Walt takes it from him. His brows jump and fall and he says, "Ah, thank you. I suppose I'd 'like' it if I were still interested in childish things." He addresses to everyone, "Welcome Jesse back, everybody. We all missed him didn't we?"

The response comes as a wave of laughs and a few "no's."

Jesse turns away. He whispers, "Tch. Whatever, geezer," he goes to join the others. He hopes Mr. White looks inside the note. It'll be enough to get him to stop breathing down his neck and scare him shitless, too.

"Luckily, we have an easy lab today," Walt adjusts his glasses.

A male student next to Jesse looks him over; of course, Jesse gets the feeling and makes the mistake of returning the gaze. The kid curls a fist near his mouth and pokes his tongue-in-cheek, then, nods in Mr. White's direction.

Jesse shrinks in on himself like a turtle trying to hide in its shell. He anticipates he's about to turn red but doesn't. His voice is lowered but clear if you're close by, "Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, bitch!" Immediately on impulse, Jesse kicks the dude's chair's leg. He almost falls out of his seat as it scrapes the floor and wobbles. Nice one.

"Ha. Sir, he just kicked me, uh, Jesse. For no reason."

"Aw, bullshit. You um," honestly, he couldn't really say it because it was too awkward, "gave me a dirty sign."

Walter White barked, "Hey! Is this Preschool or High-school? Anymore distractions will not go unpunished!"

"Ooo," Jesse mocks. Getting suspended would be up there in the best things to happen to him behind getting laid and dope right now.


	3. Chapter 3

Jesse just _had_ to keep it up, didn't he? Smart-assing and then, refusing to wear the safety glasses; they make him, well, anyone look retarded. Mr. White even stressed the experiment wasn't dangerous and still the uptight instructor had made them all dress up. A weight dropped in the pit of his stomach. Maybe from the pig-slop the lunch woman slathered on his tray, she looked so done with the world.

 **You and me both, lady.**

Or maybe it's that now, he gets to spend his whole free period with the _best_ guy _ever_. He vaguely hopes a school shooter would just storm the hall and take him out. Just spare him from it all. Pinkman shakes his head at that stupid and overdramatic thought; he's no pussy. He lingers in the doorway to see White is setting a cloth and spray-bottle down on one of the tables.

Mr. White doesn't even have to look, because he just senses Jesse, "Close the door."

While balancing the food tray Jesse does so; on edge. Walt circles his desk and finds his seat; Jesse relaxes too.

"All right," his voice is low but stern, "here's what happens ... eat, then, you're going to wipe the board and tables."

Jesse's fingers crawl for the fork. "Aye-aye, Mr. Clean." A corner of his mouth splits up in a pleased grin.

Walter folds his arms and leans up on the desktop. "Ha-ha. Not funny. My hair may be thinning, but," he somewhat self-conciously runs a palm down the back of his dark hair, "anyways, you do understand you've brought this upon yourself?"

Jesse is instead gulping thickly from the soda can and finishes with a replenished sigh, "aaahh ... ...what? Some old guy singling me out?"

 **... Targeting me?**

"Singling ... y... I wonder why," Walter deadpans.

"Same."

His jaw clenches before releasing a frustrated yelp, "For god's sake, Pinkman! You can't be this ignorant!"

They fall silent. Jesse's foot is tapping nervous and impatiently.

"I got the message or, should I say threat."

The opposing male's body stiffens, intense blue eyes glaring across the way. What he scribbled on paper before comes to mind:  
[Better watch what you do. Don't think I won't tell somebody.]

As if he's picturing it too, Walter tilts his head to the side quizically, "I'm not sure what it is you're getting at—"

He draws his lips back slightly like a snarling dog, "—Oh, right, your creepiness lately is all in my mind, huh, Mr. White?"

There's a delay in his answer. "Well, actually yes. Nothing is creepy about a teacher checking up on a student. Especially one struggling and causing problems. It's part of the job." He's trying not to lose his temper but the kid is really burning up the fuse. "So, I don't know what you plan to accuse me of doing."

Jesse's eyes roll, "Then, if I'm such a problem—"

"I'm not giving you what you want. And, I have my suspicions about you, too. For example, I could say that you're ...into drugs."

"I'm not on drugs," defensively, each word grows louder.

It just convinces Walt further. "Hm. Well, dig in already, Jesse. I don't think you can afford getting any scrawnier," he chuckles. It's just another tip-off to the warning signs. "When you get to work make sure you make everything look crystal clear."

(A/N: Pun intended. The rating is gonna go up with the next chapters. Be warned.)


	4. Chapter 4

(A/N: This is a quick update to those who've been waiting. It wil be edited w/ a little more story! Ch. 5 will be better.)

The thug character, on the split-screen for two-players, went airborn as it was struck by a police cruiser; his body did multiple flips, before, face-planting in the road. Jesse grimaced at his loss and slam-dunked the controller. "Fuck me," he glared at the red 'wasted.', buffing his hand down his mouth wiping it. His friend, next to him on the sofa laughed raspily.  
Badger said, "Hagh-harrgh-heheheh! Ain't so 'gangsta' now, huh!? The cops wrecked you so bad! Why's your character a 'spic anyway, white boy?" He added, "I know someone who'll do 'ya real good."  
Jesse registered that he'd meant Mr. White, earlier, he expressed the awkwardness lately to him, he then, felt Badger reach over, pinching the bead through his shirt. "Don't touch my nipples, homo! Blow me, Badger, you bitch!" Jesse tried to guard himself.  
"Sorry, I ain't gay and way to controdict yourself, wow!"  
"Nah, I turned it around on you, so, that makes you the homo," Jesse confirmed.  
Badger shook his head against that statement, the curls in his eyes swaying. "You sure your 'rents and little brother aren't gonna smell all this dank?"  
"That's what the Febreeze is for?," Jesse said, grabbing the cold can shook it, then, making it rain freshness around them in the room.  
"Riiiiight, hey, my girlfriend text me. She wants to come over and she'll pick up pizza, you good?"  
"You got yourself a girlfriend? Bomb." Jesse nodded, sounding very surprised.  
"Well, she ain't officially my girlfriend, we just made out a little at a party..."  
"Did'ja get some?" He asked. Badger turned away shyly and muttered. That answered that. Jesse picked up a school folder and opened it up to Badger. "Check out my masterpiece," It was a cartoony caricature of Walter White, who looked like he sat on a beaker, it was sticking out his rear-end.  
Badger look amused, "That's hilarious and.. pretty good you should give it to him as a gift. 'Ya know show him just how much you love him."  
Jesse balled his fist and swung it near to Badger's crotch, threatening to hit him there. Badger cupped his hands protecting his junk. They both laughed, minutes later, hearing a car beep the horn twice from outside. "This must be her?" Jesse questioned as he peered through the slotted blinds as the thick, shortest latina girl with black, big curls and a wide, but, cute button nose hopped out the yellow Ford Focus. 

Manicured, rainbow-pointed nails wrapped around a cardboard box and held it up at the door. "Hello, Badger. You're Jesse? I hope you boys are hungry, there's plenty!" The girl said.  
"Maaacie! You rock, Mace." Badger cheered, he flipped the top open and shoved a double-decker in his mouth, chewing rapidly.  
The scent wafted into Jesse's nose, so damn delicious... he started to reach but stopped midway to look at Macie graciously and ask for permission, is it okay?  
"Dig in, already! Have some!" Macie assured Jesse, looking on at him with a sparkle in her eyes.  
He did just that, he unhinged his jaw wide and chomped through to the crust in one bite. "Thanks for bringing it! Make yourself at home," He chirped between chewing, "Shit, spend the night."  
Badger lifted his chin up at that, not exactly liking the sound of it, "Well, I'm not staying over, so, like, I dunno why'd you want to." He aske Macied with concern.  
Macie's attention snapped back to Badger, "Oh, well, I'm not, then."  
"So," Jesse swallowed, "Back to Grand Theft Auto?"  
They gathered around the TV with the goodies. Macie wanted to try, she had a turn with Jesse first.  
"Hey! No friendly fire," Jesse warned shortly after they got started, "We're supposed to do this mission together, stop,,,! You're gonna!" His character collaspsed with a grunt. "...Kill me."  
"I'm sorry? I didn't know that was you?" Macie huffed, discouraged, "I'm terrible at this, haha."  
Badger chuckled at Jesse's misfortune, "Okay, switch!"  
They kept at this, gaming, snacking, smoking, on into the graveyard hours of the night. Macie had curled up in an arm-chair, tucking her knees in. She pretended to sleep while the boys occasionally ignored her for the game, until, she actually did fall asleep.  
Badger soon yawned and stretched, "I'm outta here, bro. Mace..."  
"Shh," Jesse hushed him, "She's asleep, dude. I'm not gonna wake her up at 3 A.M. just to make her drive home. Do you really wanna do that?" Jesse told him softly.  
Badger guessed he had a point, "O-Oh, yeah, uh, bye buddy. Make sure she leaves when it's daylight." He gave Jesse a fist-bump of trust.  
"Cya, man." Jesse stayed up a few extra hours more before, his head hit the throw-pillow on the couch.  
X  
"Do you actually think I care. old man? About being a dreg of society? I don't give a-"  
The words dissipated breathless from his lips as callused hands took ahold of his.  
"Mm-hm. Soft hands. You haven't worked a day in your life, have you, Jesse?" White continued to carress his hands, massaging with feathered pressure.  
Jesse eyes peeled back in alarm at someone touching him. Macie was over him about splayed, but, keeping from crushing him. She was inspecting his features, her fingers interlocked with his. She squeaked in just as much surprise.  
"Wh-What are you...? The hell?"  
"Morning~! I-I'm sorry, You look so cute... when you sleep."  
Jesse sat up, causing Macie to slide back, and he wiped his brow, "Whoa, Macie, this isn't okay. Okay it's not. We didn't... do anything... did we?" It was clouded.  
"No. No..." Macie answered, thoroughly saddened it didn't happen.  
"Not that you aren't pretty, you are, but Badger's my friend... and he really likes you. I don't think I can do him like that." Jesse explained after he watched her get upset.  
Macie said nothing, just looked at him with bambi eyes.  
"I think.. you better go home now, nice to meet you, by the way."  
(End of this chap! Please leave me a smol bean review if you can, if you want more~)


	5. Chapter 5

Everything was still in the White residence, save for the old, sputtering and gurgling coffee pot, Walter watched the black line inch out, in short, slow bursts, they really needed a new one. Then, his ears picked up low buzzing of voices, talking back and forth, he knew immediately it was from the TV. He filled a mug, he didn't expect for it to take long for the caffeine to give him that kick. He snail-trailed into the family room, Walt stood from behind the furniture, his eyes fell to the form of his wife Skylar. She was awake, lying on her side, propped on her elbow, she was watching a soap opera. Walt, apparently, came at an awkward time because a man and woman were sharing a steamy exchange. He snickered at the corny show, which made her reel back to give him a teasing look and raise a brow.

"Skylar..." Walter found himself almost petting her head, his hand and fingers twirled through her blonde drapes, tickling her scalp.  
"How come we're not passionate like that?" Skylar sighed dreamily. "Am I not ...sexy? Is that what the kids are still saying? Anymore?"  
Walt guffawed, "Skylar, you're gorgeous ...and if it's passion you want, passion you're gonna get."

Crutches clacked onto the kitchen floor, "Gross." Walt Jr. stated.

 **X**

Jesse's Sunday was going uneventfully as ever, he rubbed the back of his neck as he checked the time on the stove, 5:40, the killjoys would be back soon, just in time for dinner. That didn't include his little brother, Jake, he'd do just about anything for that kid. The doorknob began to jingle as someone fussed with it, unlocking it, three people scuffled in. Mrs. Pinkman looked the place up and down, her face twisting in disappointment.

"Jesse, it smells like a barn in here! Couldn't you have at least cleaned up a bit, while we were gone?"  
"Mm'Sorry..." No, Jesse wasn't. He stretched his back and arms, "Hey, sweet, what's that? Look's like... a rattlesnake? And, uh, a blue Power Ranger, cool." He nodded to his 12-year-old brother.

Jake smiled and hugged the prizes entrapped in his limbs closer, "Thanks, I won them! The book fair at the library was awesome, it even had small rides in the back, this time! Was the best it's ever been so far. They had lots of brand new books, and popcorn and cotton-candy machines." He took an excited breath, "Kinda like a carnival! Then, we stayed over at Grandma's."

Jesse was glad he had a good time, sad, but, glad regardless, "I wish I could'a been there, with 'ya." He said with a sour infliction, directed at his folks, still sounding depressed.

Mrs. Pinkman rolled her eyes, "You're too old for that, Jess-"  
Jesse perked up and puffed out his chest, defensively, throwing his arms out to the sides, "It's a little thing called 'quality time with my 'lil bro.' That making sense to you? Can 'ya dig it?"

Mr. Pinkman also took a macho stance, blocking his wife with a wave of his arm, Mrs. Pinkman's mouth opened and closed in surprise. Jake pleaded at Jesse with his eyes and expression for him to stop, things were getting on the verge of a heated argument.

"I don't like your tone, mister, who do you think you are? This is your mother, how dare you get aggressive at her!? Life's not all fun and games, boy, are you sure you're the elder son?"

"Honestly, we just walked in the door, and you're attacking us... It really is time you start looking for a job, Jesse, how many applications have you put in...?" Said Mrs. Pinkman.

"...One."

Both his parents shook their heads and tutted. "One's not going to cut it, I think it's best if you just stay in your room for now. No supper for you tonight, we already ate, stopped at that new restaurant, Dimitri's Dine-in."

"...What the fuck!? ..Are you fucking kidding me?!"

" **Get your ass in that room!** Don't test me!" Adam Pinkman bellowed.

Jesse thought, try me, _fucker_! Bad move, his dad literally wrestled and dragged his ass upstairs, Jesse could feel bruises that were gonna be there, nice and purply, the next day and already started forming from the manhandling. He was livid, he couldn't believe Jake saw him weak like that, watched everything unfold. He tugged on his short pieces of hair and sort of beat himself in the head with his fists, people do odd things when angry sometimes, he felt a vein pop up to the surface in his neck the redder in the face, and upset he got, while he let out a pent-up holler. He started to chill when he remembered something he stashed, awhile back. He opened up this weird, puffer-fish trinket, he got as a souvenir in the aquarium portion of the nearest zoo. There it was, it was still holding it, the pretty, swirling L.S.D. square, it looked glorious about now, and Jesse could use a good trip. He plucked it out and put his head back, "Take me the fuck away," he dropped the acid on his tongue and felt it starting to dissolve. While he waited for the effects to take place, he thought again, feeling his blood boil, he leaned against the headboard of his bed. He wanted to blow mom and pop's heads off, which, was a despicable thing to wish on your own family, but at this moment Jesse gave no fucks. He was tired of eating and swallowing other people's bullshit, if he had it his way, if he could find a way, him and Jake would move miles, states, whatever away, he'd find an apartment and work and he'd take care of him. It was their fault, it's their fault Jesse and Jake could not be as close as they could be. He loathed them for that. Their Mom and Dad are far too up the good son's ass and can't let Jesse taint their precious pupil. Never!

(A/N: Remember, everything, charries belongs to Vince Gilligan.)


	6. Chapter 6

Jesse slants back and forth, rocking on his springy mattress. The bed creaks almost inaudibly with the rhythm, he is going to be so sleep deprived at school, wrecked, bitchy, as the dark morning of A.M. creeps onto light, timelessly. He inspects the goosebumps, rising and prickling at his arms; he hallucinates his suicide, "You can do it, Jesse," he speaks to himself, the blade of a pencil sharpener, which he took apart, lightly pressed into a vein on his wrist, would that little edge do the trick? "You've said you'd do it before, you pussied out, you'll do it again. You're a drag to everyone you care about, dead extra weight..." The dishwater blond teen shames himself. "Do everybody a favor, and just die already! **Hrrgkk**!" This part came out a little louder out his mouth than the other sentences. The razor hurtfully embeds into his veins, blood oozes and pools out of his severed life roots. Of course, nothing is actually in his hands, he's dragging the Blowfish across his skin.

He gets an exhilarated rush of adrenaline as his breath catches in his throat, somehow quietly stumbling to his walk-in-closet, pouncing on his heels towards it. Jesse whips out a bag, holding it by the handle, parts to pitch a tent tucked inside. "Whas'zat noise?" Jesse hisses through his teeth, head snapping to a bumping knock at the door, it's light, but feels amplified to him. The door slowly drags over the rug, open, Jake is standing behind it. "Are you... okay, " Jake looks on into Jesse's dilated pupils and shortsightedly bites his lip, "Juh-Jesse? What're you doing with that? If you don't calm down, they'll hear you, 'ya know..." Jake hushes. Jesse eases up, "C'mere." They walk towards each other shyly, like trying to walk through quicksand. Jesse takes Jake's shoulders, pulls him closer and hugs him. "Don't be scared. You're killin' me, lookin' at me like that." He ends the hug by trailing his hands down the length of his brother's arms like he's smoothing over his clothes, the whites of Jesse's eyes are soaked with tears. "I don't belong here, Jake." Due to the drug, finishing this thought, he smiles a dead-faced smile, looking like a pretty little psycho.

"What are you tal-talking about? I want you to stay. Where are you going?" Jake counters slightly shaking his head "no.", overwhelmed. Jesse scoffs, it's not in vain, though. "I have to go... hell, _somewhere_ , it'll be a while, but, I'll see you again." With the tent clung over his shoulder, Jesse backtracks to the window at the far wall. "Not a word, Jake. I know, it'll be hard, but, go back to sleep." Jesse turns his back on him, unlatching the window and sliding the wood and glass up. He dangles one leg out the open, the pitch black air, resting his foot on the roof ledge, before turning his body in one swift sweep escaping. Jake watched this, lingering a bit before closing Jesse's door, regretful. Jesse wobbles on the uneven terrain, he trips on a peeled up shingle and slides down the ramp, catching himself on the edge to prepare himself for a less-propelled fall. He lands in the rose bush below, getting scratched by the thorns, "Sun'nuvva bitch!" He spits, untangling himself as light flicks on within the house. He splits down the street in the filtered moonlight.

His legs continuously kick out, one foot in front of the other, zipping past stranger houses, running with nowhere to go. Jesse keeps exerting himself, as a cold, night wind winds up, frost biting his skin and stinging his waterfall eyes. He's a blubbering fool, the tears are turning to hot streams now, as he works himself up. " **I HAAATE YOU, MOM!** " It rips raw out his throat, " **I HATE YOOO-UU, DAD!** " It's strained, " **WHY'D YOU EVEN LET ME BE BORN?! HUH!?** " Jesse asks his desolate surroundings, " **I SURE AS HELL DIDN'T ASK TO BE BORN, I** DIDN'T **HAVE A SAY, NOW, DID I? DID** IIII **?** " except, he wants to cry out a scream like a banshee, before him, a giant green lizard grabs the tightrope of the power line, it's lanky claws lazily walking the tightrope. The iguana's nostrils flare, "Holy, shit !" Jesse's heart hammers, it looks directly at him, flicking it's spongy purple tongue out, it arches its back, spine spikes arching up, growling at Jesse. Jesse drops to his knees, in a crouch, shielding himself from the lunging reptile, quaking a little. He feels hot breath rush and envelope him, he dares to squint up into its technicolor eye bulges. The reptile's maw lined with jagged canines, snap and click, not catching anything, before it melts into a puddle of mixed paints on the street then, blending in with the street, pouring steadily into a drain. Jesse clutches his throat, one-handed, holding it secure, swallowing a lodged lump, coming down from that vision.

"Skye, did you hear that? That-That yelling, I'm calling the police, right now." A neighbor man sputters, rubbing the corner of his foggy eye, putting his glasses on into place, dialing 9-1-1.  
"What's your emergency, sir?" An African-American dispatcher answers, filing her nails.  
"Yeah, some guy, I dunno, he sounds young. He's roaming the streets and shouting at the top of his lungs, could even hear him over my T.V. for Christ's sake. Anyway, I need to report this disturbance."  
"Mm-kay, sir. Did you happen to see him? It would help the officer more if he knows what to look for," She pauses, bringing up his location on Google Maps, "Do not exit your home, see if you can stay hidden and look out."  
"Sure. Please hurry with sending someone out to patrol."  
"We're on that. Is the man armed?"  
"He looks... fairly young, I can't really make him out, he's too far, he's gone out of the light. I-I think he's on the loose again. He has a bag of some sort, a concealed weapon, perhaps?"  
"Oh, dear, the police are en route."  
"Yes, thank you, I have work early, have to leave in a few hours actually, and I'd like to have my family sleep peacefully, hm?" Walt manages to joke gruffly, snapping the phone shut.


End file.
